


Bird in the Hand

by glymr, iesika



Series: Kings Among Runaways [20]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-24
Updated: 2010-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/iesika/pseuds/iesika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I want to touch you."</p><p>Jason's eyes open a little more, and he grins. "Yeah?" He spreads his arms wide in invitation. "You're lucky I'm such a nice guy. Always letting you get your way."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bird in the Hand

When Tim was three years old, he met a boy who changed his life.  
  
Ten years later, he met another.  
  
The idea of having to choose between the two of them has been tearing Tim apart inside for the last few days, ever since he realized that no, Jason really wasn't going to forgive Dick for upsetting Tim, or whatever it was that set Jason against him, initially. He's been trying not to think about it - surely Jason will come around, eventually, and see that Dick really is a nice guy - someone to be admired, or at the very least, respected - but with every day that's passed since Dick had arrived for his visit, Jason seems to hate him more and more.  
  
It's not just Dick, either. Jason seems to hate everything about Wayne Manor, when he isn't being trained to break bones more efficiently. He doesn't trust Bruce - it's so obvious that Tim is constantly afraid Bruce is going to get *offended*, but the man seems to find Jason's paranoia oddly endearing. He doesn't seem to mind Alfred, so much, especially when the man is feeding them, but even the butler's unobtrusive presence sometimes sets Jason on edge. When Alfred's actually trying to *wait on them,* it's even worse.  
  
It's obvious he finds the opulence of the house overwhelming and oppressive. It seems crazy, but Tim's pretty sure Jason slept better back at the motel - heck, back at their *squat* - than he does in the huge bed they now share. At supper, he sometimes stares at his plate like maybe he's expecting a bug to crawl out of the micro-greens, even though he almost always eats everything. If Tim reaches out to him, he'll let himself be touched, and touch Tim in return, but it's like Tim has to seduce him every time - like maybe he doesn't, actually, want to - Jason calls it 'messing around.' Tim doesn't think that's quite adequate.  
  
Jason's tired from not sleeping properly, his fuse is short from nicotine withdrawal, and...and he just doesn't want to *be* here. Tim knows it. Tim's *known* it, and he had let himself ignore it, let himself hope that Jason would change his mind, because Tim *does* want to be here, more than almost anything in the world.  
  
When he'd walked into their bedroom that afternoon and found it empty, Tim had been annoyed at first. Shouting at the table, running out like an angry *child* - what did Jason think he was doing?  
  
And then their bathroom had been empty, too. Tim had felt a twinge of uneasiness, but the full realization of *what* he was fearing hadn't hit until he'd turned in the doorway and noticed that one of the dresser drawers was open, its contents obviously rifled - and in a hurry.  
  
Tim's heart had seized in his throat. When he couldn't find Jason...  
  
He'd looked in a few rooms before the panic had really set in and set him running down the halls, calling Jason's name. He'd been torn between fear and anger at the idea that Jason might be *avoiding* him, right up until the moment Tim had stepped into the library and seen the balcony doors standing wide open.  
  
It was the most terrified Tim had been since the night he watched the Graysons die.  
  
Jason had gone. Jason had *left him,* and it was every one of Tim's worst fears brought to life, all at once.  
  
Tim has admired Dick Grayson - *Robin* - for what feels like all of his life. Moving into Wayne Manor, training to be Robin, being friends with Dick all of a sudden - it had felt like a dream come true. Realizing, all at once, that he would give that dream up in a heartbeat to follow Jay... had been an epiphany that left Tim reeling.  
  
He's still reeling, standing in the spray of their luxurious shower, water turned up hot enough to scald, turning the events of the day over in his mind. After he and Jason had come back in, Jason had acted like nothing had even happened - maybe in his mind, nothing had. Nothing but Tim behaving weirdly, again, and since when was that new? Tim knows Jason thinks he's odd, a good bit of the time. That's never really mattered, somehow. Jason's honest about it, at least, and he mostly seems to like that Tim doesn't really fit in, anywhere. It's one of the things Tim loves about him.  
  
That's what it comes down to, he realizes. He *loves* Jason - not hero-worship or admiration, but *love*. Tim's known it for a while, but somehow he hadn't truly realized what that meant until he thought Jason was gone.  
  
He never wants to lose him. Never wants to be farther from him than he is right now, with just a few yards and a wall between them. Never wants to spend a night without Jason's hand on his hip, his heat at Tim's back. Never wants to wake up and not see the mess that is Jason's hair, first thing in the morning, smell his breath - taste it - before they've even brushed their teeth.  
  
Tim thought he knew what lonely felt like, thought he knew what to do with those feelings and how to push past it. He almost feels sick with himself, because the moment he thought that Jason had moved on shouldn't trump the memory of sitting in front of the television, waiting for news - any news - from Haiti.  
  
Tim turns off the spray and shakes the water from his hair, trying to put his thoughts behind him. Jason *didn't* leave - he's right there in the other room, and that's the important thing to remember. When Tim walks out there, he'll be - not asleep. He never goes to sleep before Tim at least gets in the bed. Tim's not sure if he should feel encouraged by that, even though the initial realization had been accompanied by warmth. It's possible Jason just wants to make sure he knows where he is at night - that he doesn't trust Tim not to...something. Tim's not entirely sure.  
  
He gets out of the shower and dries off before tying the thick white towel around his waist. He brushes his teeth and washes his face with a salicylic acid scrub, and then he turns and walks back into their bedroom.  
  
Jason is stretched out on the bed already, covers turned down. It's a warm night, and he's wearing just a pair of briefs, hands behind his head on the pillow, legs spread, eyes closed but not asleep. Tim stops in the doorway and just looks at him for a while. He'd thought Jason was handsome before, back when they'd first met. Jason's been filling out, some, since they started eating more regularly, but Tim had barely noticed, other than to be happy he looked healthier. He's been putting on muscle since they began training with Bruce, though, and Tim's definitely been noticing *that*. The way he looks now, his body tight and toned, his skin clear, his hair thick and healthy - eating well and washing regularly obviously agree with him at least as much as the work-outs do.  
  
His abs are defined, now, and his arms - always strong - are corded with muscle. His *legs* - Tim follows the line of them with his eye, up from his feet. His thighs are - Tim wants to lick them. He hovers in the door feeling kind of ridiculous, and entirely too turned on considering Jason obviously just wants to go to sleep.  
  
Jason's eyes crack open, heavy-lidded and sleepy. He looks up at Tim and smiles a little. "Hey."  
  
Tim swallows. "Hey." He watches as Jason untucks his arms and reaches over his head, stretching. Tim hears something 'pop', and that shouldn't be - he shouldn't... "Are you, um."  
  
Jason looks up at him, a question in his eyes. When Tim doesn't actually say anything else, Jason lets his gaze wander down. Being looked at like this always makes Tim feel warm and slightly uneasy, even though there hasn't been any privacy between him and Jason since the first time one of them had to pee in the middle of the night. Back in their squat, Jason had sometimes told Tim he was too skinny, but at the time Tim knows he *had* been too skinny. He's a healthy weight, now, and putting on muscle too, though not at the rate Jason is. It's still hard not to feel self-conscious.  
  
"You coming to bed?" Jason murmurs, stretching again. He kicks the covers a little, pushing them further down in invitation. All Tim's focused on is what the movement does to his legs and abs, though, the arch of his hips as he moves. He hums absently in agreement and hears Jason chuckle. "You look like you're planning something."  
  
It's only when he says it that Tim realizes he *is.* He smiles to himself and climbs up onto the edge of the bed - not his own side, but Jason's. He sits on his heels just below Jason's feet, his hands resting in fists on the blanket beneath him. "I want to touch you."  
  
Jason's eyes open a little more, and he grins. "Yeah?" He spreads his arms wide in invitation. "You're lucky I'm such a nice guy. Always letting you get your way."  
  
"You're not too tired? Bruce made you run a lot."  
  
Jason rolls his eyes a little. "Have you ever been too tired for a handjob?"  
  
Tim can't imagine ever turning Jason down - they've only done this a dozen or so times, and each and every moment of it has been amazing. They haven't done more than touch, though, and Tim's been too shy to ask for more, but all he can think right now is that if Jason had walked out on him this morning, Tim would have spent the rest of his life regretting that shyness.  
  
He wants everything from Jason - every touch and taste and part of him. Jason is more experienced than he is, and Tim's been waiting for him to take things further, show him how this works. But Tim doesn't want to wait, anymore, and if Jason doesn't want this, he can stop him.  
  
Tim reaches out and nudges Jason's ankles a little further apart. Jason looks at him with amusement until Tim inches forward on his knees and runs his hands up Jason's legs. He cups Jason's calves in his palms and watches his eyes go from sleepy laughter to arousal - strokes Jason's knees with his thumbs and feels his body shift. Jason lets out a long sigh of breath, and Tim moves forward a little more, letting his hands come to rest on Jason's thighs.  
  
"Fuck, you're hot," Jason murmurs. Tim smiles and shakes his head, but Jason isn't having it. "I mean it. Your eyes get all dark - your hair's still wet."  
  
"Wet hair turns you on?" Tim says, laughing a little. He shakes his head enough to send tiny droplets flying. Some of them land on Jason's skin, leaving it glistening.  
  
"Messy," Jason says. His stomach quivers when the cool water hits it. Tim decides to go with the sudden impulse that follows, leaning forward, bracing himself on one hand beside Jason's hip. "Your hair's only messy when you - oh."  
  
He breaks off when Tim's lips touch his stomach, and sucks in a sudden breath that makes the muscles move under his skin. Tim touches the droplets with his mouth, and then follows the motion with his tongue, feeling ridiculous but also suddenly very sexual. He circles Jason's navel with the brush of his mouth and nuzzles at the faint line of hair under it, breathing deep for the smell of Jason's skin.  
  
He closes his eyes and just lingers there until he feels the touch of Jason's fingertips on the back of his neck. "Tim," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. When Tim looks up at him, over the flat expanse of his skin and the ridges of muscle still new in their definition, Jason is looking back at him, his expression dark and almost pained.  
  
Tim shifts back a few inches, until he can see the outline of Jason's hardening penis under his briefs. He doesn't let himself stop and think - thinking is the *enemy* here, and it only ever makes him miserable when he tries it, so he just bends and presses a light, closed-mouthed kiss to the cotton.  
  
Jason hisses sharply, and his hand moves to cup Tim's shoulder, pushing him up and tugging him forward. "You don't have to do that," he says quickly, sounding almost angry. The tone makes Tim flinch. "No - I mean." He sighs, and his voice goes soft. "Tim."  
  
"I want to," Tim says, quiet as he can without whispering. It seems like something he shouldn't say out loud, like a confession, an admission of guilt. Jason's hand cups his cheek and he leans into the touch, eyes closing. "You don't like oral sex?"  
  
"Tim." His name is followed by a chuckle, and Jason's fingers spasm on Tim's cheek. "*Everybody* likes - it's not that, okay? But you don't have to."  
  
Tim's got one elbow on the bed and one hand at the top of Jason's thigh. He moves his thumb, feeling the edge of Jason's underwear. His fingertips slide under the elastic to feel the heat where Jason's leg joins his body. "I said I want to," Tim insists. He bends down again, ignoring the way Jason's breath catches, and kisses him again, his mouth open this time. All he can taste is cotton, but he can *smell* Jason's arousal, and it makes his mouth water.  
  
"I'm really..." Jason starts, and then squirms under Tim with a sigh. "I'd be happy with a handjob. Really."  
  
Tim smiles against the cotton and feels Jason *twitch* under his cheek. "You don't sound very convincing. Or even *convinced*." When he opens his mouth again, Jason pushes him away from his lap, making a frustrated sound. Tim's too startled to push back, so he moves with the shove and touches his lips to Jason's thigh instead, a chaste kiss, and then a wetter, softer one.  
  
Jason's skin feels so good against his lips - smooth, with a just a faint dusting of fine hair. He brushes kisses up his leg, just *feeling,* mostly, and the hair is a little thicker at the tops of his thighs, the inside. Jason isn't pushing him away anymore, just laying there breathing heavily, and he *definitely* has an erection, so Tim just does what he wants for a while, exploring to his heart's content. The position he's in hurts his back a little after a few minutes, so he sits up enough to pull off the towel he's wearing and stretches his legs out to lay down, pushing Jason's knees out of the way.  
  
*That* makes Jason react. He moans, soft and muffled, as Tim's fingers brush the hollows behind his knees. The sound is encouraging, so Tim bends his head again and scrapes his teeth against the skin there, on the inside of Jason's thigh just above his knee. Jason gasps, and his leg jerks in Tim's hold, so Tim *bites* a little, thinking of how good it feels when Jason uses his teeth on Tim's neck.  
  
He's really kind of flying blind, using Jason's reactions to guide his movements. Jason doesn't try to stop him again, so Tim continues, paying loving attention to every inch of skin he can reach. He looks up after a few minutes, but Jason's laying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands clenched into fists beside his hips, and that gives Tim the courage he needs to shimmy up a few inches until he can reach Jason's lap again. He licks and sucks at the skin just below the leg of Jason's briefs, starting at the outside of his thigh and then working his way in, dragging his tongue along the elastic band until his nose is pressed against Jason's balls. He breathes deep, and it's *his* turn to moan, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet of their bedroom. Tim opens his mouth and *sucks*, wanting to taste - *wanting.* He moans again and shifts his hips against the sheets.  
  
"Tim," Jason says, quietly, his voice rough and tight. "I meant it, okay? You don't have to."  
  
Tim moves his mouth up the shaft of Jason's erection, mouthing it through the cloth. "And I meant it when I said I want to," he insists as he pulls back to survey his handiwork. Jason's underwear is really kind of soaked. There's a wet spot near the tip of his penis that Tim isn't responsible for, so he presses his tongue there and hums at the taste. It's so much like the *smell* he's been breathing that he moans again. He presses the head of Jason's penis between his lips and feels the shape of it with his tongue.  
  
That seems to be Jason's breaking point, because he sits up, suddenly, and grabs Tim by the head and by the shoulder, pulling until they're face to face. He looks...he looks like Tim's been doing something *awful* to him. Tim flinches back from the look in Jason's eyes and tries to turn his face away, but Jason isn't having it.  
  
"Why did you let me?" Tim asks, his voice weak even to his own ears. "If you don't want me to."  
  
Jason sighs and presses his forehead to Tim's cheek. "Because I *do,* okay? I just...shouldn't. You're really young, Tim."  
  
Tim rolls his eyes and huffs at that, but inside, his mind is racing. 'Really young.' What did that even mean? Jason's never used his age against him before - never even brought it up. Why does it matter *now,* all of a sudden, that Jason's a little older? "I'm old enough."  
  
Jason breathes out and pulls back an inch, but he doesn't meet Tim's eyes. "Are you?"  
  
Tim kisses him, softly, and Jason's eyes slide closed. Tim pulls back and looks at him for a few seconds, tracing the worry line on his forehead with his eyes. He slides back down Jason's body, pressing his erection against Jason, letting him *feel* how hard Tim is right now. "I want to suck you," he says when he's between his legs again, and hears Jason breathe in sharply through his nose. He grabs Jason's briefs by the waistband, pulling them down and away until Jason's cock springs free, bobbing in the air and then rising, getting even harder. For *him*.  
  
Jason's hands come up to reach for Tim, but Tim grabs his wrists and pushes them to the bed. It's nothing like a real pin, but Jason lets himself be held.  
  
Tim and Jason are *partners* - that means *equals.* Tim's not too young. He's *not*, and Jason shouldn't be thinking that way - not when Tim *knows* that Jason's been doing this for years. Done it with men whose names he probably didn't even know, let alone someone who *loved him*.  
  
"I'm *going* to suck you," Tim says, his voice sure now.  
  
"You really want to..." Jason trails off.  
  
Tim laughs, hoarsely. "Jason, I've wanted to do this since the first time we masturbated together. Since the first time I *smelled* you." He can hear Jason breathing again, fast and hard. "I wanted. I wanted to roll over on that dirty mattress and - and *taste* you. Make you - oh." Jason's hips buck suddenly, and Tim breaks off to lick his lips.  
  
Jason struggles against his hold, but Tim tightens his grip. After a moment he lets out a sigh, his eyes drifting closed, and Tim can *see* him giving in. "Jesus, Tim," he whispers.  
  
He wants to make Jason feel good. He wants to have this part of him, his taste, his *pleasure.* He wants...  
  
He wants to be good at this. He wants Jason to think he's good at it. Good enough. He... Tim shakes his head and lets go of one of Jason's wrists, bringing that hand up to wrap around the base of Jason's erection.  
  
This much he knows. This much is familiar. He's touched Jason like this before, but never where he could see him up close like this. Usually - if that word can even apply to something so new - usually they're face to face, standing in the shower or laying together in bed. Tim gently slides the foreskin back, loving the *glide*, the way Jason is suddenly *exposed*. Jason's penis is really kind of *pretty* - wide, mushroom tip flushed pink, shaft slightly curved. Tim makes a loose fist and squeezes, too lightly to give Jason any kind of satisfaction, but enough to move his foreskin up and down when he strokes.  
  
He bows his head and presses his lips to the side of the shaft, feeling the soft skin there with parted lips. He moves his head and feels the glide and drag of Jason's foreskin against his cock, just...shifting. Feeling it, for a while, until Jason's free hand is fisting in the sheet and his hips are moving, shallowly.  
  
Tim pulls back and looks at him, trying to gauge his response and decide what to do. He licks his lips and tastes Jason there, and that's enough to make him groan. Jason's eyes fly open and he looks up at Tim, his eyes dark. Tim takes a deep breath and lowers his head again. He wets his lips again and touches them to the tip Jason's penis, letting them part around it.  
  
Jason's head falls back, the sound escaping his throat a quiet keen unlike anything Tim's heard him make before. He cradles the tip on his tongue, soft and wet, helpless to do anything but moan as Jason's hips twitch and the smooth, slick flesh slides against his tongue. The taste is heady - a little bitter, a little salt. He wraps his hand more firmly around the base and steadies himself on his elbow, his arm draped over Jason's hip, his other hand still holding Jason's wrist.  
  
He covers his teeth with his lips, careful, like it said on the internet, and goes down, taking the whole head into his mouth and stroking the underside with his tongue. God - the way it tastes - the way it *feels*, the slide over his tongue, the press against his palette. There's a part of Tim that can't believe he's actually *doing* this. He feels his mouth watering and swallows reflexively with a moment's panicked thought about the possibility of *drooling*. The contraction makes his tongue move, undulating against the underside of the shaft, and - oh, Jason's hips jerk forward again, just a little, and then draw back.  
  
Jason's body is rigid under him with the tension of holding himself still. His fists are clenched and his knuckles are white. Tim swallows again, trying to draw out a reaction. He pulls back until he can hold just the head in his mouth and *suck*, stroking the shaft with his fist at the same time.  
  
Jason shudders and cries out. "God," he gasps, "Tim. You-" Tim sucks again, and Jason seems to lose the thread of what he was trying to say. Tim feels the corners of his mouth try to pull into a smile, but his *mouth* is full, so he tightens his lips and goes down again, pressing with his tongue. "Fuck, yeah, so *sweet.*"  
  
Tim moans his agreement. That sets Jason off again, makes his hips buck, whether it's the sound or the vibration. He does it again for the feel of it, but Jason's got his reactions under control again, so Tim has to be the one to press forward, taking a little more, until his mouth touches his fist.  
  
God, he thought once he'd had his taste, that would be enough, that he could slake his thirst for this, but he's realizing, now, that he's going to want this *again* - this feeling, this taste, this flesh against his tongue. He wants Jason *moaning* - wants the heat, the slide, the *throb* against his lips. He sucks, hungry for the sounds Jason is making - faint, incoherent curses, muttered praise that doesn't even make any sense. He tries to find a rhythm and he *can't,* because he can't think, and he can't stop pushing himself.  
  
Jason's wrist turns in his grip and shifts until Jason is clutching his hand, holding it. Tim clutches back, desperately. He sucks a breath in through his nose and swallows before going down again. He squeezes Jason's shaft and then lets him go, reaching down to cup his balls the way he's seen Jason do sometimes when he masturbates. Jason makes that high sound again when he squeezes, and it makes Tim moan too. His own cock is so hard it's aching, but he can't bring himself to let go of Jason for an instant, so he lets his body move against the bed, humping the sheets.  
  
"Harder," Jason gasps, and Tim doesn't know if he means his hand or his mouth, so he sucks and squeezes at the same time. It seems like the right response, because Jason shouts, and the hand Tim's not holding comes up to cup the back of his neck. Tim presses up against his hand and then goes down again, letting Jason set a rhythm with gentle pressure. "Fuck, god, Tim, so good. Your *mouth*."  
  
Something tightens in Tim's chest with the praise. He drives forward, moaning without pause, now, taking Jason as deep as he can, sucking, making it as wet and tight as he can. His fears about drooling were apparently valid ones, but he's not going to stop *now* to swallow, not with Jason gripping his hand hard enough to bruise. Jason's fingers slide into his hair, stroking across his scalp, and the feeling makes Tim shiver all over, makes him push himself until he can feel his throat flutter and clench.  
  
"Fuck!" Jason says, explosively. "No. God, I don't want - I don't want to *hurt* you." Tim backs off, then. He *wants* to swallow him, to take him all the way down, but Tim knows there's a difference between reading about something on the internet and making his body *cooperate*. He should have bought toys. He should have *practiced* - but how was he supposed to know he'd meet someone like Jason? That he'd even *want* this?  
  
"So...so *fucking* good," Jason breathes. His fingers tighten against Tim's scalp on the next downstroke, until he forces himself to relax his grip. Tim wants to tell him it's okay - that he can thrust if he wants, fuck his *mouth* if he wants, but that would require letting go, pulling back for longer than it takes to suck in a breath and go back down again.  
  
And oh, every time Jason moans, every time he cries out, Tim feels it echo in his chest. He whimpers like an animal and swallows again, sucks, works his tongue, down and down until Jason *finally* clutches and thrusts up, and this - this is what Tim *wanted*. This proof, undeniable, that Jason wants him. He bobs his head faster, sucks harder, moans and moans as his orgasm builds, thrusting against the bed, and then he's coming, his vision going white and shimmering around the edges because he doesn't even want to stop to breathe. He hears the sound he's making - muffled, broken - chokes as he loses all sense of coordination, of what his body's doing.  
  
"Fuck," Jason's gasping, "fuck, fuck," over and over. "So hot. God, you're-" he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out in a wordless shout. He bangs their joined hands against the bed, and then the hand in Tim's hair lets go. "I'm gonna-"  
  
Tim makes a very embarrassing noise and sucks harder. Jason's fingers find his face - he's groping blind, now, his head thrown back, eyes shut - and there's a moment where they're struggling against each other, Jason trying to urge him back as Tim is trying to press forward, and then Jason's balls go tight in Tim's hand and he *jerks* in Tim's mouth, his whole body shuddering with tension as he comes, his semen slick and slightly bitter on Tim's tongue. He holds on as long as he can, until Jason's body goes limp against the sheets, and then he turns his face away as he lets him go, bracing hard on his arm as he coughs and gasps for breath.  
  
Jason's sitting up in an instant, his hands gentle on Tim's face and arm, pulling him up. "Are you okay?"  
  
Tim would reassure him if he could catch his breath. He holds up a hand instead, trying to convey without words that no, he's fine, really, just winded, and maybe he aspirated a little semen - no, he probably shouldn't be trying to express that part. Jason looks awful as it is, worried, guilty - Tim gets his diaphragm under control. "Fantastic," he says, and smiles.  
  
Apparently that's not enough, though, because the worry doesn't leave Jason's face. "I really didn't mean to-"  
  
"Jay," Tim interrupts. Jason stops trying to talk and just looks at him with apprehension in his eyes. "That was amazing, and I want to do it again. Often."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Did you miss the part where I came all over the bed without you even touching me?" Jason blinks at him, his mouth parted slightly. Tim decides to be generous and blame his shell-shocked expression on post-orgasmic stupor. "I liked it, Jay. I *loved* it. I love making you feel good."  
  
The look Jason gives him is strange, like maybe he doesn't believe Tim, despite the obvious physical evidence. He almost looks...  
  
Tim slides up the bed to lay beside him, bringing the tangled blankets with him to cover them both. "Was I wrong?"  
  
Jason seems to shake himself and turns his head to look at him. "What?"  
  
"Wrong. Was I... You did like it? I thought you did, but if you didn't we don't have to do it again, or you can tell me how to do it better next time-"  
  
Jason's eyes get wider and wider until Tim finally trails off. Tim doesn't, actually, know why Jason's looking at him like that, and it makes something twist inside him. Maybe he hadn't made it very good after all. Maybe...Maybe he'd pushed too hard. Tim doesn't actually know the details of Jason's sexual history, except that most of it probably wasn't very pleasant.  
  
The high he's been riding deflates. Jason's just laying there blinking at him, not saying anything, and...well, Jason wouldn't say anything, would he? If it's got something to do with his life before he met Tim, or the things he's had to do to survive. He's made it pretty clear he wishes Tim didn't know about *any* of that. "I'm sorry," Tim says, quietly.  
  
"Sorry?" Jason echos, his voice rough. "You didn't - Tim, it was good."  
  
Except for the part where Jason looks like it wasn't good at all, for reasons other than the physical. Tim sighs and closes his eyes. He should have settled for jerking Jason off.  
  
When Tim opens his eyes, Jason has turned to face the ceiling, his eyes closed. If he's not even going to kiss Tim goodnight, then Tim must have really upset him. He doesn't know what to say, though, and he doesn't want to try and kiss Jason if Jason doesn't want to kiss *him*, especially since his breath probably smells like Jason's semen.  
  
Tim sighs again. When Jason doesn't open his eyes, Tim rolls over to face the wall, slipping one arm under the pillow to hold it close.  
  
Jason doesn't put his hand on Tim's hip.  
  
Tim closes his eyes.


End file.
